


Do Not Get Me Wrong

by Daiako (Achrya)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Verse, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 23:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11345475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Daiako
Summary: Prompto and Gladio are…complicated. The love is there but it never quite ‘clicks’. Gladio figures some people just aren’t meant to be and that’s fine, right? Especially when distance seems to be growing between them, more every day. Gladio thinks they’re on the verge of ‘breaking up’, again, but it turns out the issue is something else entirely.





	Do Not Get Me Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> A tumblr request for Promptio mpreg. In which Prompto decides to be master of his own fate and is the more responsible of the pair (trust me, he is), Gladio is behind the eight ball and too good a person for Prompto’s liking, and Ignis is really really tired of them both. Mpreg, angst, ABO, angst, Gladio is confused and probably spends too much time comparing his relationship to Ignis and Noctis and can’t get his shit straight because of it. Emotional constipation and relationship dysfunction. And past onesided Gladio/Ignis and implied onesided Prompto/Noct. (Gladio assumes, Prompto never confirms.)

 

Prompto wasn’t looking at him, eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond his shoulder, and his hands were laced together so tightly he was pressing the color out of the skin beneath his fingertips. The hand Ignis had on his shoulder, clearly meant to provide comfort, didn’t seem to be doing much of anything. If anything Prompto seemed to be wilting under it, shoulders hunching more and more with each passing moment.

Agitated didn’t quite do justice to the expression he was wearing; knitted brows, lips pressed together, eyes glassy, skin washed out and almost gray. He looked…sick. Or like he was going to be sick at any moment.

Gladio liked to think he knew Prompto pretty well and that he had a handle of his expressions and actions and what they meant and that? That was the 'I'm going to puke because anxiety' face. Or at least Gladio thought that's what it was. All of a sudden he wasn’t sure what he actually knew about reading Prompto.

“You’re what?”

Ignis shot him what might have been the shittiest look Gladio had ever had aimed in his direction. Prompto reached up to scrub at his eyes and shrugged.

Gladio was the first person to admit that he and Prompto had a ‘complicated’ relationship and that at 26 and 29 they were maybe getting a little old for it. It was far past time to figure out what they hell they were doing together, if they were staying and trying or going and leaving it alone for real this time. They fooled around, tried to date, sort of broke up, went back to being friends, fooled around again and kind of hovered in a strange in between place. Gladio had come to take it as proof that caring about someone, loving them even, didn’t guarantee a smooth ride or amazing ‘written in the stars’ epic love. Not everyone could be Noct and Iggy and not everyone was meant to be.

They, clearly, were not.

They’d become friends because of their connections to Noctis and then more than friends more or less for the same reasons. Ignis and Noctis had gotten together and suddenly hanging out had become less ‘the four of them’ and more ‘the couple and the other two’ and then just ‘the other two’.

To say nothing of being in similar states of watching their unrequited crushes start dating each other.

Ignis and Noctis getting together had been inevitable, yes, but knowing it was coming hadn’t made it easy when it finally did.

Gladio had never been angry about it. It wasn’t really his place to get angry; his crush on Ignis had been a lost cause from the get go and he’d always known that. Ignis and Noctis, the alpha prince and his omega advisor, had been slowly circling each other more or less since they were all toddlers. Oh, they’d taken their sweet time getting there, had a few fumbled encounters when they were teenagers that Gladio had heard about from both sides in aching detail, had a few other near misses where things never quite lined up just right or barriers would crop up. Even their friendship had fallen apart when Ignis decided to attend a university in Altissia, much to everyone’s surprise. Noctis had taken it hard. He hadn’t been able to understand why Ignis would want to leave him.

Gladio hadn’t understood either at the time. Now he could see what Ignis had been doing and that it had been the right thing to do. Noct and Iggy had both changed in the time apart, grown up, dated other people, started talking again when the hurt feelings faded, worked through things at 22 and 20 on their own terms instead of feeling like it was something that had to happen. When Noctis had been ready to court Ignis he’d packed up Prompto and Gladio into the Regelia, called it a road trip to see Ignis graduate, and set out to Altissia.

Ignis had come back with them and they’d been together since.

Gladio envied it, and not just because he’d let himself fall for Ignis while the other man had been away and growing into himself, figuring himself out beyond his service to the royal family. (In hindsight sometimes Gladio wished he’d done the same but also knew it wouldn’t have worked out. They couldn’t both leave Noctis and Ignis…well. Gladio wasn’t so sure he would have benefited from it like Ignis had. He wasn’t always so sure there was more than the Shield to who he was.) Not just because they fit together perfectly and he was sure he'd never find that. He envied that faith Ignis had in what he and Noctis had; he’d always been sure it would work out, one way or another, and so he’d been willing to take a leap of faith in leaving Lucis. Noctis had known when the time was right to really try with Ignis, had known the right things to say and do, and he’d done it.

Gladio hadn’t ever done the right thing with Prompto. Not even when he'd been trying to get him into bed the first time. They’d gotten drunk and mopey, feelings hurt because Ignis and Noctis had forgotten to show up to something again (sometimes Gladio suspected it had been less that they’d forgotten and more that they’d been trying to set them up.) Gladio had let all of the stupid angst ridden pining stuff come pouring out while Prompto listened, nodding his understanding, patting him on the back, and…then they’d ended up on the floor, pants pushed down to their thighs, kissing and rutting against each other.

Prompto had gotten his head together first, called a halt then dashed out of Gladio’s apartment faster than Gladio had ever seen him move before. Between that and the effective radio silence that had followed it had been pretty clear a mistake had been made or, at least, they’d tried to go about it the wrong way.

Eventually Prompto would tell him he didn’t want to be his Ignis replacement, which was fair. Gladio didn’t want to be anyone’s replacement either, not even Noct’s, and so they’d just been friends with some sexual tension for a while. Got over what they needed to get over, left old crushes in the past where they needed to be, called themselves better people for it. 

Tried to date. Failed for reasons Gladio couldn’t quite articulate. Kept sleeping together anyway. Tried again, because it always felt right when they were together, didn’t it? Broke up because feeling right didn’t mean a whole lot when you couldn’t get it right.

And now. He wasn’t sure what they were doing now. It was complicated. They spent most of their time together, helping Noctis and Ignis with the impending wedding (as if those two hadn’t been more or less married since they were preteens) being the best best men they could, doing things together, sleeping over at each other’s places, but generally not talking about what they were or were not doing with each other. There was sex

Which was why Gladio didn’t say anything when Prompto stopped coming over as often, and stopped calling him to come over to his place 3 or 4 times a week. He didn’t say anything when they started meeting up for lunch less and leaving cake tastings and tux fittings and all sorts of annoying planning events separately. He didn’t say anything when they had sex less and Prompto started covering up around him and avoiding being touched.

At first he’d thought it was related to Prompto putting on a little weight and being sensitive about it but it was two months later and he was thinking there was someone else. It wasn’t like he could mad about it, they’d never said they were together and couldn’t date other other people, so he just…didn’t say anything. He knew if he did he’d say the wrong thing and it would be an argument and he didn’t want to argue.

Arguing only led to more of the wrong thing, usually him saying something he knew would hurt but said anyway because…well, because he could be an asshole when he was angry or backed into a corner. It wasn't an excuse, there was no excuse for the things he said and did sometimes, but it was what it was. He was too old for that shit too, especially when it was just because of bruised feelings he didn’t have a right to have. He’d wanted to just wait it out, accept whatever was coming with some semblance of grace and dignity. If this dysfunctional thing he and Prompto were doing was coming to an end then so be it, he could handle it. He would handle it. 

Is what he told himself while quietly seething in his apartment alone for the fifth night in a row. It hadn’t helped that he’d realized Prompto was spending more time with Ignis. Gladio knew nothing was happening there but he also knew Ignis didn’t approve of their relationship, such as it was, and had told them both more than once to just break it off completely. It was worrying that they were together so much.

Worrying enough that when he’d shown up at Prompto’s, at the blond’s request, and found Ignis there too (sans Noctis) he’d been immediately on guard. He doubted wedding plans involved deathly serious faces and Prompto insisting he sit down before they started talking. Gladio hated talking, for starters, and he’d been able to tell right away that nothing good was going to come from this talk.

He wasn’t sure where exactly he stood on that now.

“I’m pregnant.” was a little hard to quantify as good or bad when he could scarcely process the words. That was…this was…his ears were ringing and his heart was racing, pounding so hard he could feel it against his ribcage.

He was glad he was sitting down.

“It’s mine?” And that was not the right thing to say. Ignis achieved a new level of ‘shitty looks’ and Prompto’s face clouded over. “Wait wait! I didn’t mean it like that. We just…we never said we weren’t seeing other people.” It sounded lame even to his ears, a silly thing that didn't make sense because had they ever actually seen other people when they were 'together'? Gladio hadn't (on their breaks, sure, but never seriously or long term because on some level he figured they'd come back around to each other) and he was pretty sure Prompto hadn't either. 

He didn't know what he'd been thinking. 

“It’s fine.” The shadow in Prompto’s eyes and the angry set of his jaw said it wasn’t fine. That was his ‘you have fucked up face’ turned all the way up. Gladio knew that face and, in spite of knowing it, had managed to continue to fuck up and make things worse more times than he could count. “There’s no one else. If you don’t believe me-”

Gladio shook his head. “I do. I do. I just...I’m…I thought we were careful.”

They were careful, weren’t they? Birth control on Prompto’s end plus condoms…usually.

Most of the time.

Okay, not nearly as often as they should have but always during heats and ruts, right?

Well.

Maybe not during those times like they should have either. Sometimes it was easy to get carried away and forget or to remember but leave the box on the nightstand because Prompto was crawling on top of him to take what he wanted or because they were in the shower and the blond always looked so good soaking wet and the temptation to pick him up and be inside of him, really inside with nothing between them, was too much to resist. And Prompto never turned him down, ever, never told him to hold on or wait. He always accepted Gladio's attention with a warm smile, heavy lidded eyes, and an eagerness that took Gladio's breath away. He wanted Prompto all the time but when he had him, when they were tangling together and sharing air and space, being 'safe' was always the furthest thing from his mind.

Sex was the thing they got right when it came to each other, the thing that _worked_. 

This was probably not the time to realize they weren’t as careful as he’d thought. Too little too late.

“How long have you known?” His voice sounded off to his own ears, words croaked out and weak. Prompto blinked once, twice, looked down at the floor.

“Almost two months? There was a test. Um. Six weeks ago? After I slept through that flower picking thing?” Gladio remembered that. Noctis has ended up dealing with the florist alone and nearly crawling under a table because he’d been so overwhelmed and all Prompto had been able to say was that he’d been exhausted and slept through his alarm. Gladio had joked that Ignis clearly had the superior best man. Prompto had laughed, weakly, but now, thinking about it, he’d been so pale.

And his eyes had been bloodshot and his scent off but Gladio had just assumed he was sick. He’d put him back to bed and headed home, promising to check in later. Had Prompto known then, for sure, and hadn’t said a word?  

“But I had an idea before that. I had an appointment today,” Gladio frowned. An appointment? With a doctor? Already? Or not already. He’d known for weeks while Gladio had been in the dark, thinking they were…not breaking up exactly, since they weren’t together, but something. “And I’m around eleven weeks.”

Eleven weeks. Almost three months. He tried to think back to what they’d been doing then but quickly dismissed the idea. It had been before Prompto started acting different and avoiding him (for now obvious reasons) so sex had been happening. Sex that shouldn’t have been happening if this was the outcome. Or…

He raked his fingers through his hair, knocking the hair tie loose in his haste. Fuck. What was he supposed to say? What were they doing? What-

Ignis shifted, letting up on the evil eye long enough to look down at Prompto. Gladio squinted, mouth twisting downwards. “You knew. You told Iggy before you told me? And you didn’t say anything?”

Some best friend. If Gladio had actually had other good friends he might have considered demoting Ignis. Then again Ignis was probably thinking the same about him. 

“It wasn’t my situation to tell about.” Ignis said mildly, as unaffected by Gladio’s anger as he always was. “I would hope if the situation were reversed, and I wasn’t ready to tell Noctis, either one of you would do the same for me until I was.”

The anger that had been bubbling up drained out immediately because of course Gladio would keep any secret for Ignis. And would sit next to him on a couch offering silent support if he needed it. Not that this would ever happen to Ignis and Noctis like this; when they had kids they’d be married and probably planning for it, not messing around as friends with benefits, again, and blindsided. Prompto and Gladio were hoarding all the 'fuck ups' in their little group and had never had any to spare for the other couple.

“And I didn’t tell him. He figured it out.” Prompto added. “Don’t be mad about at Ignis, it’s not his fault. I messed up my pills-” 

“I’m sure there’s enough blame to go around.” Ignis patted Prompto on the shoulder sympathetically but the look he shot Gladio was icy. “It takes two after all.”

Gladio sat back in his seat. “Don’t you have a husband to babysit?”

“I think we can all agree you’re the one who should be spending time babysitting, not me.” There was a loaded pause, Gladio looking away as his teeth ground together because Ignis had a fucking point, before Ignis continued. “Considering that your reaction to Talcott used to consist of trying to sneak out of the room befor-”

“Talcott was a shi-”

“Talcott is the most well behaved-”

“I was all of fifteen when Talcott was-”

“Eighteen, and you treat Nyx and Luna’s children the same-”

“So what? They aren’t mine!” Gladio snarled and so much for not getting angry. In his defense Ignis had always been good at pushing his buttons. Not as good at it as Noctis, no one got under his skin like Noct could, but Igis had a way about him. A cold, deliberately antagonistic when he wanted to be, way.

Gladio had always thought omegas were supposed to be sweet and mild tempered. Then Ignis had presented as one and he’d learned very very different. On the upside that had prepared him for Prompto who was very much whatever Prompto wanted to be and very rarely what people thought an omega was supposed to be.

“Stop!” Prompto shouted. Gladio flinched and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ignis shut his mouth tight. A quick look found Prompto glaring at them both in turn before finally settling on Ignis. “Thanks for staying, but I think we should talk now. Just us.”

Ignis nodded, losing all traces of irritation. “Of course. I’ll see you in the morning?”

Prompto nodded as well and, with a glance towards Gladio, got up to walk Ignis out. Gladio dropped his head into his hands and breathed in and out slowly in an attempt to find some inner calm. It was easier said than done but Prompto seemed content to leave him be, returning to the living room and breezing right through it into the kitchen. His phone buzzed but he ignored it, focusing instead on the sounds of Prompto moving around, water running and cupboards opening then shutting, pans being moved, for what may have been a few minutes just as much as it may have been an hour.

It felt like a long time when he finally unfolded himself from the loveseat to look at his phone. A message from Ignis; he was tempted to ignore it but opened it up after a few seconds of debate. It was short and to the point, as Ignis tended to be when he had something to say.

‘He’s been stressed about this for weeks. Think it through.’

He set his phone aside, cursing under his breath, then got up to slink into the kitchen, feeling very much like a child who’d done something wrong. Prompto was stirring a steaming pot slowly and didn’t bother looking up when he slid into to the space next to him.

“Prom-”

“I’m keeping the baby.” Prompto said. Gladio’s stomach flipped. “But I know this isn’t what you want. You don’t want kids-”

“I’ve never said that.” Prompto glanced up at him, eyebrow arching. “…I may have said that.”

In fact he may have, on occasion, admitted to being happy to be one of six siblings (and more cousins than he could count) because it meant there would be another shield without any work on his part. Prompto had always smiled indulgently at him and never argued the point or said anything to indicate he wanted something different.

But why would he? It wasn’t as if they’d ever talked about a potential future together or whether or not they intended to have children with each other. He hadn’t needed to know Prompto’s stance on that sort of thing, he’d never even thought about it. They could barely function together for more than a few months at a time, why the hell would they talk about something as serious as having kids? That kind of talk was for people like Noctis and Ignis, people who worked, not for them, and so it had never occurred to him to explain what he really meant.

He’d never had to explain it was less that he hated kids or never thought about having his own and more not wanting to have a kid when he knew their life would be laid out before they were even born. Any child of his would be The Shield, like Gladio was, like Clarus was, like his father’s father, and so on and so on. There was no escape and there was no choice. That wasn't fair. He didn't want to lay that burden on someone else, take away all the choices they could have before they'd even taken their first breath. It had just...never felt right. 

The blond looked away, attention returning to the pot as he picked up where he’d left off as if Gladio hadn’t spoken. “I’m not asking you to do anything. I’ve been thinking, and doing a lot of math, and I can do this myself. I mean, my parents will help some and other people, but I *can* do this alone. You don’t have to be part of it.”

Gladio's mouth dropped open in shock. What? What the fuck? Prompto actually thought he'd turn his back on him and walk away? Really? “I wouldn’t-”

“I know what you would do!” Prompto stepped away, back to Gladio as he walked to the sink, and exhaled loudly. “You’re going to try and do the right thing. You’ll do all the supportive alpha stuff and you’ll be here whenever I need you and you’ll be a good dad and you’ll probably try to fucking marry me because that’s how you are.”

Gladio opened his mouth to protest then shut it, blinking. He rolled Prompto’s words around in his head, trying to unravel what wasn’t being said. He was usually good at that, getting to the root of things (and then ignoring it because too many emotions were involved), but he was at a loss here. Wasn't all of that what he was supposed to do? You get someone pregnant, you take responsibility, that was how it worked. “I don’t see the problem?”

“The problem is that you could hate me and hate the baby and hate your whole life and you’d stay anyway. This hasn’t worked before and I don’t want it to just because we’re bad with condoms. That’s not…it shouldn’t be like that. I don't want you to be with me because I'm pregnant, I want you to be with me because you want me.” The words faded into a pained whisper, a tell-tale hitch at the end. 

Gladio took a step closer, hesitated, looked around the small kitchen as if he'd find the right words written somewhere. He didn't and that left him with only the truth. "I do want you, I fucking...I love you. I thought you knew that. We just...." 

Gladio didn’t know what to do with any of that, not the words or the sadness in Prompto’s words or the way he scrubbed furiously at his eyes when he was done. He knew he felt like he was an asshole and wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t even done anything yet. If anything he was the one being rejected, wasn’t he?

By the man having his baby.

His baby.  

How had they even gotten here?

A few things went through his head, ideas. Telling Prompto that he loved him and they could make this work; it was true. He did love Prompto, that was never the problem, and he was sure they could make it work. But Prompto didn’t want that. He could say that he didn’t think people hated their own kids but that didn’t feel like it would be good enough. He could tell Prompto that he was happy about this but that wouldn’t be…he didn’t know what he was. Not unhappy but not really happy either. Confused, mostly, about how his life had seemingly derailed in the past thirty minutes.

Tired all of a sudden. So tired.

“I don’t know what you want Prom. I never know what you want.” Gladio admitted. Prompto’s shoulders lifted then fell, saying a million things and nothing at all.

He covered the distance between them, reached out and put his hands on the other’s shoulder, leaned down to press his nose to the top of Prompto’s head and breathed in. His scent had been off for weeks. He’d known it but attributed it to other things. Being sick. Being unhappy. Sleeping with someone else.

Now that he knew he processed it differently; a touch of Prompto mixed with the rust and smoke he knew was his own scent and a little bit of something else, something soft and new and not quite it’s own thing just yet.

He couldn’t understand how he’d missed it now that he was breathing it in. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to know. Maybe he was just imagining it now, turning the ‘off’ into something it wasn’t. He’d always heard that an alpha *knew* if their mate was pregnant and while Prompto wasn’t his mate he wondered if he should have known.

He slid his arms down so he was hugging Prompto. “I’m not letting you do this alone. We can figure the other stuff out, if you’ll give me a chance.”  

After he’d gotten some time to sit around and maybe tear out his hair and cried about it to…hmm. Well, to himself, probably. He didn’t even want to think about how the was going to tell his family. Even Iris had gotten tired of the back and forth a year or two back. He couldn’t picture anyone’s initial reaction being ‘congratulations’.

Unless it was ‘Congratulations on finally continuing the family line’. 

...he was going to need a drink. A lot of drinks. 

“I knew that’s what you were going to say.” Prompto said quietly, hands gripping the edge of the sink. 


End file.
